One For My Baby
by Ink11
Summary: A chunky tiva one-shot; good for those who love to analyze NCIS! good for a rainy day... but don't come here looking for fluff! mid-season 8  3 yrs later. T for safety!


**A/N: I hope you like this one! It's pretty chunky, but I like some parts of it. This is supposed to be a little earlier in Season 8 - I have my own ideas as to how the season should have ended but decided just to leave it without an opinion. By the way… I totally want to see Michael Weatherly sing on NCIS! I think this would be great as a flashback scene.**

"Agent DiNozzo, do you care to answer Ms. White's question?"

He started and turned to face Vance, who was raising an eyebrow at him. Tony put on his brightest smile.

"I'm sorry. Could you run that by me again? I'm ah, a little distracted tonight,"

She started talking again. This time Tony recorded each of the words she said, while watching the blur of green out of the corner of his eye.

"Ah, yes, we do have internships once in a while. Mostly in Autopsy or Forensics, but occasionally we do one-day or one-week field internships,"

The woman nodded and spoke yet again, with a frighteningly large smile. _My son… __**Ziva just took a drink from that guy**__… he loves his country… __**Look at me, Ziva**__…Not sure he wants to join the military… __**Come on Ziva, don't leave**__… _

"Do you think it'd be a good fit for him?" The back ground noise was reduced to a low buzz again as Tony turned his attention back to her toothy grin.

"Well, there aren't too many field openings these days…" _**Is that a new necklace?**_"But he might do well starting up in a different area of the agency and working his way up…" _**Her cheek… her lips…**_

_Do a lot of people do that?... __**She's smiling in my direction**__… don't want him to get stuck at the bottom… __**Is she mocking me?**__... How long will it take?... __**Who is she talking to, is that McGee?**_

"Yes, my partner McGee actually started as a computer specialist and, is now a fully fledged field agent. It didn't take that long. I mean, you've gotta want it, you have to be ready to commit. Lemme think… McGee was a Probie… that's Probationary Agent… in 2004. He was Junior by about… 2007 or 2008… He'd be a Senior Field Agent now, but that slot is filled,"

Finally, he found a moment to slip away. Dizzy from lack of sleep, he wandered confusedly through the swamp of people, hoping that green dress would catch his eye.

The party was winding down. Couples regrouped again and moved towards the door with a wave to Vance, the men's suits and ties making them look like a herd of zebras trying to confuse the lion. As the room emptied the clicking of high heels began to echo.

Soon there were only about twenty people left; most were serious looking, talking in groups of three or four, and on the waiting list to talk to Vance. The agents remained, and so did Abby. Ducky had gone home, as he was getting on in years and wasn't much for late night partying anymore. There was extremely passive music playing. Abby had convinced Gibbs to dance with her and she was grinning as he swayed, talentless, but strangely graceful, with his daughter.

Tony waited for the last of Vance's interrogators to march out so he could help the janitor with the immense table cloth. It seemed to be taking a while, so he sat with his head in his hands, hoping to calm his headache.

A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked awake. He looked up to find Ziva smirking at him. Her dress was more of a turquoise up close. It hugged her curves and complimented her skin in a way he tried not to notice.

"Well, hello to you too," He said groggily, getting to his feet. The tablecloth had already been taken away.

"Falling asleep on the job?"

Tony didn't answer. He looked past her to where McGee laughed at Abby's attempt to get Gibbs moving.

She watched him. "You know, Tony, it is only right to ask a pretty lady to dance," She narrowed her eyes at him.

Tony frowned. "Yea. I'd love too, but Abby's taken, and McGee isn't really the kind I'd call 'pretty'…"

If they'd just met she would've smiled. And if it was a few years ago she would've rolled her eyes or elbowed him. Instead, she slipped into his arms with a chuckle.

The music wasn't anything special to dance to. All that could be put into it was swaying, really, so they did.

"So." She said.

"So."

"How are you?"

He gave a thoughtful, very DiNozzo-like frown. "I think I'm good,"

"You think so?"

"Yes, I think so. And how are you?"

"I'm good,"

"How's Ray?"

"He's good,"

There was a silence until Abby shouted, "Look at Tony! It's not so hard, Gibbs!"

Tony and Ziva looked towards him, smiling. "Come on, Gibbs! Where's you're A-game?" Tony called.

Gibbs grinned. "Left it in the Navy, DiNozzo,"

Tony let go of Ziva with a sudden spin. "You know what we need? We need some real music,"

"That right, DiNozzo?"

Without looking back Tony leapt onto the stage that held the CD player connected to the speakers. He looked through the stacks until he found a Frank Sinatra classics CD.

He was greeted upon his return with amused grins. Encouraged, he started to sing along, leaping from the stage and moving towards Ziva, who was cracking up. With exaggerated, dramatic steps, he took her hand and put his other on her waist. Their audience grinned as they started to swing around the place. The song picked up speed and so did Tony, his steps firm and sweeping, Ziva's quick and fluid.

Singing loudly, Tony dipped Ziva dramatically as the song ended. They were met with applause from the onlookers, including Vance, the janitor, and half of another team who'd joined the crowd during the performance. Tony stepped back, breathing on the heavy side, and swept his arms towards Ziva who curtsied, and then swept her arms towards him.

Half an hour later, Ziva and Tony still danced, now with foreheads touching, and bodies close. The audience had moved on, to unknown locations. Something told Tony that Abby was yanking McGee away from view behind him, but he didn't mind. All he could see was Ziva.

Without looking up, she spoke. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mmm,"

"Why do we always do this to each other?"

A pause. "I don't know,"

Then he was bolt upright in his bed, three years older, three more years spent working… wasted. Maybe it could've been, he thought. Maybe if I'd been more patient. Maybe…

At least there was here. At least there were still those moments where nothing else factored into the equation because they were near death. Unfortunately they couldn't live in those moments.

He wished they could be together. But he knew it would be selfish to trap her, and she knew she'd be trapped if she stayed. Ziva had her whole life ahead of her. Ziva had a chance to put down some roots. Ziva had more time to love. So she made a choice. She could not throw away her life for him any more than he could let her, as he felt he'd thrown away his own. Tony was selfless in the biggest sense of the word. If there was anyone on the planet who genuinely didn't want company in his misery, it was Anthony DiNozzo.

So he watched her walk away. He interrogated her about her boyfriends. He added an extra twinkle in his grin around her. He messed with her and teased her, and let things slip around her to tell her his feelings of want and love and tenderness and respect for her remained, that if ever she decided this, this dead end, was what she wanted, the option would still be there.

But neither of them wanted that. They both knew if that happened, Ziva would wake up next to him one day and realize she was trapped; a good part of her young life spent living his old one, skipping over the things he'd already done or felt he was too old to do but she had missed. And she couldn't leave. Not then. Not after agreeing to stay with a man who had nothing else, and asked for nothing else.

And still, even with this silent agreement, even with the knowledge that she loved him, even with the understanding they had for each other, loneliness, frustration, and fear clouded his judgment as the years wore on. Tony tortured himself as he lay awake at night, wondering, maybe, if he'd done one little thing differently, it could've worked.

He didn't blame her for it. But he missed her, and he missed Jeanne, and he missed the comfortable feeling of being young and full of blank pages. And on the loneliest nights, he'd drive around the neighborhood, and when he passed her apartment he'd glance up to see if the light was on, and if it was he'd wonder if she wanted pizza, or if he waltzed up the stairs with a movie she'd still let him in and Ray would not be there, or if she even remembered the time he made her watch "It's a Wonderful Life" on Christmas Eve of 2007 and he cried like a baby at the end.


End file.
